Read Around the Shabbat Table Online
Authors: Jayne Cohen
Around the Shabbat Table (3 page)
SHAPE
the dough into a ball and place it in a greased bowl. Cover with greased plastic wrap. Allow the dough to rise in a warm draft-free place until double in bulk, 2 to 3 hours. (You can begin the bread the day before you plan to bake it, and let the dough rise slowly overnight in the refrigerator. Bring the dough back to room temperature before continuing.) To test whether the bread has fully risen, gently press it with a fingertip. If the dent remains, the dough is ready.
WHILE
the bread is rising, warm the remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a large heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the reserved chopped onion and garlic, salt lightly, and cook uncovered over low heat, stirring occasionally, until very soft, up to 40 minutes. Raise the heat to medium, and continue cooking, lifting and turning, until golden and caramelized and all pan liquid has been absorbed. If necessary, turn the heat up to high for a few moments and cook, stirring, just until the pan liquid disappears. Cool the mixture to room temperature.
PUNCH
the dough down. Now, using your hands or a floured rolling pin, gently flatten the dough and shape it into a circle about
3
â
4
-inch thick. In a small bowl, mix about three-quarters of the caramelized onion mixture with 1 tablespoon flour, and spread it over the dough, leaving a 1-inch margin. Sprinkle lightly with the coarse salt. Fold in the edges and reform the dough into a ball. Sprinkling with more flour as necessary, knead for 1 to 2 minutes to lightly incorporate the onions into the dough. Let the dough rise a second time until double in bulk, about 2 hours.
PUNCH
the dough down and divide it into six equal pieces. Using your palms, roll the pieces into identical ropes about 10 inches long. Braid the ropes into two loaves, using three ropes for each loaf. An easy way to do this evenly is to start the braid in the middle, braid to one end, then turn the loaf upside down and braid to the other end. Turn the ends under and press down to keep them joined together.
IF
you find the dough is difficult to work because the onions push through to the surface, you can shape it into two turbans instead: divide the dough into two pieces. With your palms, roll each piece into a long rope, thicker at one end. Holding the thicker end on the work surface with one hand, with the other hand spiral the rope around the thick end, forming a turban. Tuck the end of the rope under the edge to hold in place.
TRANSFER
to a greased baking sheet. Apply the first coat of egg wash (reserve the rest), brushing it all over. Cover with greased plastic wrap and allow to rise for a third time until double in bulk, about 1 hour. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350°F.
MIX
the remaining caramelized onions into the remaining egg wash. When the loaves have risen, brush the egg washâonion mixture over the top. Just before placing in the oven, sprinkle lightly with coarse salt. Bake for about 35 minutes on the middle rack, until the loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped on the bottom. Transfer to a rack and let cool, or remove from the baking sheet and place directly on the oven rack to cool with the oven door left ajar.
COOK'S NOTE:
For a subtly spicier flavor, season the caramelized onion liberally with freshly ground black pepper.
Make sure the cloth you use to strain the onions has been washed only in unscented detergent. I use inexpensive men's cotton handkerchiefsâthey're great for this and similar kitchen chores.
Not through Proust or Camus, Colette, or Chanel. Not even through French food. I became a Francophile early by way of Toni Home Permanents.
On Sunday nights in the days before cream rinse, my mother attempted to distract me as she wielded her comb through the chewing gum, wisteria blossoms, and web-like tangles that inhabited my hair. And she had to find a way to keep me cooperative through the longer process of applying vile-smelling lotion to my unfashionably straight locks, then rolling them up in the doll-size pink rubber curlers that left me with hair like stiff radish sprouts. So she taught me French.
And I loved it. I loved the way the words sounded. I loved her accent. Later on, I learned she mispronounced half the words, her definitions were off, her accent execrable. No matter. I loved her, and because of her, I loved everything French.
I didn't get to France until I finished college, but after that I returned as frequently as my finances would allow. One of my favorite areas was the former Jewish ghetto around the rue des Rosiers, now the site of some very
à la mode
designer boutiques and a number of stores still selling Judaica as well as Ashkenazi and Sephardi foods.
On one visit, I took my daughter to Sacha Finkelstajn, an Eastern European delicatessen with a refined Gallic touch. As in the
cave
of a
grand chateau de vins,
the
vendeuses
ply you with generous samples until you finally decide what to purchase. The spicy golden onion rolls are ethereal, and the chopped herring is whipped to a mousse-like froth and garnished with delicate lingonberries. But to Alexandra, my husband, and me, the silken chopped liver is the finest of the treasures.
Unfortunately, Blueberry, our little Yorkie-poodle, devoured the sandwiches in the car while we were out touring Monet's gardens at Giverny. We returned to Paris the next Passover and this time we left Blueberry home. I had written to the
patronne
at Finkelstajn's for the recipe but received no response. Now I pleaded with her but
non
she never gave it out. “Just one ingredient. What makes it so airy, what packs that subtle bite?” I persisted. Little by little, she told me things. There was no secret ingredient. It was simply a matter of proportion. Then she drew me a diagram: equal amounts of liver, egg, and onion, plus sufficient oil to make it creamy. And another diagram of the onions: two-thirds sautéed lightly, one-third raw. Simple Cartesian logic.
Haunted by the taste memory, I weighed it out at home and came up with this recipe, much eggier than more familiar versions. For all of us, it has become an edible souvenir of our beloved Paris.
CHOPPED CHICKEN LIVER FROM THE RUE DES ROSIERS
yield:
6 TO 9 GENEROUS APPETIZER SERVINGS
This luscious chopped liver relies on perfectly cooked hard-boiled eggs: tender and moist, without chalky greenish yolks or tough, rubbery whites. For a foolproof method for preparing them: place the eggs in a heavy saucepan large enough to accommodate them in a single layer. Add
1
â
2
teaspoon salt (to prevent cracking) and enough cold water to cover them by at least 2 inches. Partially cover the pan and bring the water to a full boil over medium heat. Immediately turn off the heat. Then cover the pan, remove it from the heat, and allow the eggs to stand for 15 minutes. Pour off the water and cover the eggs with fresh, cold water, to prevent further cooking, until they are cool. To remove the shells easily, peel the eggs under cold running water or submerge in a bowl of very cold water.
7 large eggs
Approximately 6 tablespoons olive oil or 3 tablespoons olive oil plus approximately 3 tablespoons
Olive Oil Schmaltz
or
Poultry Schmaltz
1 pound onions, diced (about 4 cups)
Coarse salt
1 pound fresh (not previously frozen) chicken livers, rinsed, fat and any green spots removed
Freshly ground black pepper
Accompaniments: soft lettuce, Belgian endive, or radicchio leaves; radishes, scallions, ripe tomatoes, black olives; matzoh;
Grated Black Radish and Endive Salad in Shallot Vinaigrette
PREHEAT
the broiler.
HARD-BOIL
the eggs, cool, and peel them. Cut the eggs into eighths.
IN
a 10-inch heavy skillet, heat 3 tablespoons oil over medium heat. Add 2
2
â
3
cups of the onions, sprinkle lightly with salt, and cook, stirring from time to time, until soft and rich gold, about 15 minutes. Do not let the onions brown or they will make the texture chewy.
MEANWHILE,
prepare the liver: line the broiler rack with either heavy brown paper sprinkled with water or foil. Pat the livers dry with paper towels, and spread them out on the broiler rack. Sprinkle them lightly with salt and broil about 4 inches from the flame until lightly browned on top, 3 to 4 minutes. Turn, sprinkle the other side with salt, and broil for another 3 to 4 minutes. Add the broiled livers to the onions in the skillet, season generously with salt and pepper to taste, and sauté for about 1 minute, tossing and turning the ingredients. Let cool slightly.
TRANSFER
the contents of the skillet to a food processor and pulse on and off to chop coarsely. Add the eggs and 1 tablespoon of oil or schmaltz. Pulse. Add the remaining 1
1
â
3
cups raw onion and pulse on and off a few more times until the desired texture is achieved. I prefer it slightly coarseâa rustic rather than a fine-textured pâté, but some like a smooth spread. (Alternatively, you can chop all the ingredients by hand in a wooden bowl with a hand chopper. Chop the liver and sautéed onions first, then add eggs and additional oil or schmaltz. Finally, add the raw onions and chop again.)
SCRAPE
the mixture into a large bowl. Adjust the seasoning and add 1 to 2 tablespoons (or to taste) more oil or schmaltz as needed to make it moist and rich. Mix again so the ingredients are well combined. Refrigerate covered until thoroughly chilled.
SERVE
cold, on lettuce, radicchio, or alternating green and red Belgian endive leaves for an elegant presentation. Or pack the chopped liver into small custard cups or cleaned tuna cans and invert onto frilly greens. Accompany the liver with the suggested vegetables and breads. It is terrific served with a condiment of grated black radish. Or stir crunchy chopped red radish into the liver just before serving.
